Sylar has had enough of Tim Kring's BS
by Gamebird
Summary: Pretty much what the title says it is. After the series is canceled, Sylar takes matters into his own hands.  Cracky.


**A/N: Written for 2011 Heroes kinkmeme prompt "Sylar kills Tim Kring. He doesn't like people who know too much about him." I don't fill it exactly, but it was fun to write anyway. Oh, and yes, shameless fantasizing and oblique self-insertion there towards the end.**

"It's a brave new world," said the actor on the television screen.

Sylar clicked off the TV. He didn't need to see the credits. He turned to the man tied to the chair a few feet away, on whose lap Sylar's feet currently rested. He made an excellent footrest, after all. "So. What happens next?"

"Um," the man swallowed nervously. He'd been forced to sit and watch every Heroes episode, one after another, with only the briefest breaks for biological reasons. He had long since regretted creating a character who was ridiculously over-powered and mentally unstable to boot. "Well … you see … there's … the network cancelled the show."

Sylar glared at him.

The restrained man said tremulously, "You … you know what that means, don't you?"

Sylar put his feet on the floor and leaned forward. "_**Make them un-cancel it**_."

"I … I … You see, I can't do that," he groveled.

"_You brought me back to life!_" Sylar said, standing and looming over him threateningly. His prisoner cringed. "I was _**dead**_. No regeneration, surrounded by enemies, no allies, nothing! And yet somehow I got in the sewer and survived!" He threw his arms out to his sides at how ridiculous a plot twist that was, how unlikely and idiotic.

"But … the writers …"

"The writers need to be canned! Find someone better!"

"Well, there was a strike-"

"Excuses!"

"Yes. Well." The man tied to the chair looked very sad. He knew he didn't have an answer that would satisfy the killer. This was what happened when a character took on a life of their own. He was being held hostage by his own creation.

Sylar sighed. He wasn't an idiot and he'd already examined the issue in detail, searching for solutions. Most of his rant at the moment was just blowing steam. He knew Kring couldn't fix it, so he moved on to his real reason for being here. He pulled out a couple sheets of paper from his back pocket and unfolded them, speaking as he did. "I've been reading fanfiction …"

"Oh no!" Kring quailed back.

"Get over yourself," Sylar growled. "_I've_ certainly had to." He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Some of the things I've done ... and the people … Anyway, I found this author." He held up the first sheet of paper in front of Kring. It was an author profile from a popular fanfiction posting site. "The story is long, the characterization and growth is consistent and the important part is that I am the central character and I survive. With most of my dignity intact."

Sylar pulled the sheet back and frowned at it, like it was partly to blame for the situation. "Admittedly, I have to screw Peter a lot, but … whatever. It's not like **you** haven't already put a dump truck load of subtext and unresolved sexual tension between us. This person at least … _resolves_ it." He snorted. "Peter's a bit of a dick though." He sighed. "I guess I can live with it."

"That's good then, right?" Kring said.

"Yeah, it will have to do," Sylar grumbled. He pulled out the second sheet of paper. "Which brings us to why I've brought you here."

"What's that?" Kring said dumbly as Sylar put the second sheet in front of him.

"It's a transfer of ownership of intellectual and creative property, from yourself to this other author."

"I'm … I'm not …"

"You're not going to sign it?" Sylar grinned. "Like that's a problem." He waved his hand. The bottom of the paper glowed gold, then blue, then faded. Tim Kring's signature (and that of the fanfiction author) was suddenly present, correct and authentic. Sylar tilted his head. "You gave me that power when I killed Joe Macon in the graphic novel '_Out of Town … On Business_.' Just because it never came up in the show doesn't mean it's not canon."

Sylar waved the document gleefully. "And now … I'm off to a long, and satisfying, life in fanfiction."

Sylar began to leave. Kring twisted in the chair. "But … wait! What about me?"

Sylar grinned at him wolfishly. "Oh, I think Lyle here has a few things he wants to express to you. Don't you, Lyle?" The killer said, turning to the young man who had just entered, baseball bat in hand.


End file.
